Burning Blue Eyes
by walkingwings
Summary: Rick and Daryl meet for the first time in the park. Or at least they think they do. Alternate Universe where they're younger-there's no walkers. Platonic until it isn't.


They're in the park when it happens and there's people passing by in every direction. The first time they see each other, it's like the whole world freezes in time, and there's no background noise. Suddenly, they understand every terribly written quote about how all you can see is you and that person. Time doesn't exist-or it just isn't important. Either way, there's a shift in the universe that they feel, pulling them towards each other. That's what they both know as blue-grey eyes burn holes into vibrant, bluer ones.

Rick can't feel his damn lungs inside his pounding chest, yet in some ironic oxymoron, he feels calm. Daryl doesn't understand the feeling coursing through his veins-it's somewhere between excitement and the urge to puke. It's pouring out and they're a good distance away from each other-both soaking wet and each one's vision distorted-yet neither can bring themselves to look away from the intense gaze they share. They don't know if it's two seconds or two hours before they're walking towards each other, intent on being in the same spot once and for all.

As Rick comes closer and closer, more about the other man is revealed. He looks young, maybe the same age as him or a couple years older. His hair is shaggy and there's wet parts of it falling all into his face, but those eyes are still so apparent through the uneven strands. There's a half-smoked cigarette hanging loosely from his parted lips, as if he's forgotten it's there at all. The nameless man seems to straighten out as Rick comes to a stop, and his poker face doesn't falter even an inch.

"I-" Rick is cut off before he can embarrass himself, and he's relieved that his nerves have a chance to calm down.

"I know you?" Daryl says, and it's as much a statement as it is a question.

"I don't think so?" Rick responds, his own voice unrecognizable and at least two octaves higher than usual. He has no idea what he's doing or even why he's doing it. But it's too late to turn around now. That point in time has passed. He wipes water out of his face, his lack of umbrella just now hitting him. The other man, however, doesn't seem to mind the downpour.

Daryl smirks and quarks his left eyebrow. He pulls the cigarette from between his lips and throws it to the ground, watching as the water puts the flame out before he can stomp down on it. He smells of smoke and defiance.

Thunder sounds off above, yet it still isn't enough to make him tear his wondering eyes away from Daryl. Now that Rick's got a good look at him, he can see angular cheekbones and lips twisted in what can only be described as a grimace. Rick can tell that he's trying to intimidate him, and it would've worked if he weren't so intrigued. Though it's pouring, the man wears a sleeveless top, his tattoos obvious and becoming of him. Rick identifies two demons and another he can't define. Daryl's eyes are cold-as-ice and unfaltering in their obvious disdain for these types of situations. It sparks an interest between the two of them.

"Well," Rick mutters, aware that he's been staring and picking up on the partial-stranger's nerves. He holds his hand out in front of him, just like his dad taught him to. "I'm Rick Grimes. It's nice to meet you."

The partial-stranger's hands are shoved deep into his pockets. He hesitates, and though it's just for the tiniest moment, Rick notices. He grabs the outstretched hand and gives it a soft squeeze, which surprises Rick. Daryl is all tough and hard as nails on the outside, but on the inside, he's soft and preserved. It scares Rick that he already picks up on this and it terrifies Daryl that he can tell. Those walls usually protected him from these types of things.

"I'm Daryl. Dixon." The voice is gruff, probably from years of smoking or something else entirely. But it has smooth, gentle tones just beneath the surface.

They both drop the topic of them possibly having known each other before. It's like they're meeting for the first time, and from what they know, they are. But still, there's something very familiar between them. It's why Rick isn't scared of Daryl's tough guy act. It's why Daryl understands Rick's nerves, though it's just the two of them. Rick isn't usually the type of person who cares what others think, but he finds it impossible not to care about the impression he's trying to leave right now.

Rick decides that he likes _Daryl's_ voice and his unique way of presenting himself. Like he's aware of people watching him at all times but he doesn't give a damn. He doesn't try to intervene. Daryl is defensive, and it's painfully obvious. Rick wonders why and there's a part of him deep down that hopes he'll get all the time in the world to know about it.

Now they're just standing, and suddenly Daryl's all too shy and way too interested in the drops of rain pounding from above.

"Damn it," Daryl mutters, looking down to search his pockets for another smoke and coming up empty handed.

Everything's wet and uncomfortable. People continue to walk by. Daryl's an introvert. He wears dark colors and an even darker demeanor. Rick is outgoing. He's dressed down in jeans and a brightly colored windbreaker. They're a walking oxymoron.

"You drive here?" Rick inquires, watching as Daryl's frustration placates.

Daryl peeks at Rick through his hair. "Nah. Walked."

Rick sees his chance and he jumps to take it. "Well, it's downin' pretty hard. I could give you a lift or drop you off at home or-"

Daryl scoffs, interrupting Rick's scramble for words. "You don't have to."

"I want to, Daryl." They're stark words, intent and purposeful.

Something about the way his name rolls of Rick's tongue softens Daryl inside. And he doesn't understand why. Daryl sighs, looking down again, but this time, he picks at his fingers instead of pretending to look for smokes. "Wouldn't wanna inconvenience you," he whispers.

"It's no trouble," Rick smiles and tilts his head to get Daryl's attention back. Daryl almost smiles back. Almost. "We're wet anyway. I couldn't have you just standing out here in the thunder and lightenin'. It's the decent thing to do." Rick adds the last part just to be safe. He doesn't want to come off as pushy or demanding.

"Yeah," Daryl nods. "Thanks."

* * *

Before they know it or can process the fact they're walking out of the park together, they're in Rick's car. Daryl's teeth shatter and his hands shake for reasons other than the weather outside. They're practically strangers. But this just feels right to them.

The drive is peaceful. Tranquil. To Daryl, the inside of Rick's car smells like dust and safety. Rick is a good person and he knows this already. It's why he's in his car and waiting to spend more time with him.

"It's not the best," Rick says out of nowhere. "It's dad's old one."

Daryl shrugs as if to say _I don't give two shits._ His wet hair is pushed away from his too-pale face.

"I don't mind."

After that, times seems to pass like an enigma. The silence between them isn't the slightest bit weird or uncomfortable.

It's then they realize Daryl didn't give Rick his address. They've been driving around town for twenty minutes. Daryl doesn't say a word unless the other man does first. Rick works up the nerve to ask, though he keeps his eyes on the wet road outside.

"Where did you say you live again?"

"I didn't," Daryl says instantly.

Rick peeks over and sees the other man looking out the window. If it were anybody else, Rick would've been slightly pissed, but not Daryl. He was just different. Unique.

"Well," Rick laughs, easing the tension a bit. "That part's kind of important."

"That so?" Daryl smartly replies, and Rick can hear the smirk in his voice though his face is partially hidden from view.

 _He's playing with me,_ Rick thinks. He scoffs out loud, causing Daryl to finally turn and look at him. He looks just as wet and soaked through, his jacket clinging to his thin upper frame and wavy hair even more unruly in it's un-dry state. Rick's eyes are wide as he grips the steering wheel just a little tighter. Daryl doesn't look away. There's a physical tension wrapped around their aura. It's a tiny bubble of space that's about to pop.

"You can drop me off at Dixon's Motors. It's my brother's place. I work there."

"That I can do," Rick says before they come to a stoplight that seems to last forever. Rick is trying to appear un-effected, but his voice is giving away his insecurity.

Daryl seems to stop playing and start talking for real, though he doesn't say much. It only makes Rick hold onto every word that he _does_ utter. The way Daryl speaks makes his heart warm, and there's a part of him that knows what that means. But for now, he tries not to pay any attention to the feeling.

From their talk they gather that they're both in their twenties, though Daryl's a couple years older. Daryl works in his brother's bike shop to earn money. He does some of the finest repair work in town. Rick's training to be town sheriff. It's what he's wanted to be since he was younger. He's lived in this town since he was a kid. Daryl doesn't say whether he has too.

Daryl thinks the image of newly twenty year old Rick Grimes as town sheriff is funny, but ultimately endearing. He can picture the baby-faced man in uniform, his bowlegged gate protecting the town from its minor threats. He laughs, though he tries to disguise it as a cough. Rick rolls his eyes slightly, wondering why the other man won't just give up the act. He can tell it would be a pleasant sound if Daryl would just let it happen.

"What? You don't think I could do it?" Rick teases.

"Nah. It's not that, Grimes. I think you'd make a fine sheriff. I do."

He can't tell if it's a joke. He hopes it isn't. The idea of protecting innocent people has always been a nice thought to Rick. He likes the idea so much he puts his unadulterated faith in people who could take advantage of him if they wanted to. Daryl feels something he can only identify as protectiveness just at the thought of anyone taking advantage of Rick. He's too pure. Too good.

Rick's heart is pounding away yet again, and thankfully, they're just about to pull up into the parking lot of the bike shop.

They park just outside and a silence falls between.

"Um," Daryl whispers, seemingly at a loss for words, just like the other man. Rick's ocean-tinted eyes shoot back up from where they'd been looking down at the steering wheel.

"Thanks for the lift. It was nice of you-you didn't have to."

"My pleasure," Rick smiles warmly, hoping to get the point across that he finds the other man interesting.

Daryl notices the stubble that's just barely there on Rick's taunt jaw. _He prefers to shave._ It's a seemingly unimportant detail. But he picks up on it either way.

Then, Daryl's pulling away and opening the door. Rick panics. The moment of tranquility disappears.

"Wait!" he yells over the sound of the pounding rain. Daryl ducks his head back into the car to listen to what the other has to say that's so important. There's desperation present in his voice. "How come I never see you around?"

"Don't get out much," Daryl shrugs, as if the reason why is obvious.

Rick thinks for about two seconds before speaking."Will I see you again some time? I mean-we live in the same place and all."

Daryl looks pensive, an unreadable expression soon falling over his face. "You'd want that?"

"Yeah. I would." _If you want to._

"You got paper or something? And a pen?" Daryl inquires.

Rick reaches to the back part of the car and shuffles around for a while before coming back with an old napkin and a pen he can only hope will work properly. Daryl takes the items regardless and writes onto the thin paper in a quick-paced manner.

"That's my phone number. You can call it if you want."

"Tomorrow sound good?" The possibility of not seeing this man again scares him so much that he's speaking without thinking. Right now, he doesn't give a damn about anything except the prospect of seeing Daryl again.

Daryl's eyebrows shoot up, and it's the first time Rick's seen him look taken aback. The poker face quickly falls back into its usual place.

Rick panics, worried that he's pushing too much. Each passing moment in which he doesn't talk feels like a waste of time. This isn't the type of time he wants to waste. "I mean because I'm seeing some of my friends tomorrow. A party, I think. I think you'd like them. That's all."

The higher octave is back, and Daryl feels saddened and unsurprised by it. _He's nervous. He's trembling, for fuck's sake._ But what Daryl doesn't know is that it's for the opposite reason he thinks.

"I don't know, man, I'm not too good at that type of thing."

Rick's expression falls at that, his smile turning into a small frown that he can't keep from forming. The disappointment is obvious. Rick's about to apologize or say something he doesn't mean, Daryl can tell. He interrupts before it can happen.

"Yeah. Okay, I think I will. I work until two tomorrow, just-you know. Give me a call or a text."

The orbs of Rick's eyes get wider at that, no longer upset. His pupils twinkle just a bit. "I'll be sure to do that," he lips part wide, white teeth on full display.

 _What a damn dork._ Daryl thinks. But he likes this dork even though they don't know each other too well yet.

"My friends are great people, they'll make you feel like you've known them for years. I promise." Rick speaks about his friends as if they're the reason he's alive. It's obvious that he thinks highly of them as people. Daryl wonders for the better half of a second if he could be one of those people too. He doesn't know that he's already on the way.

They've been talking outside for such a long time that the pounding lets up and the sun shines through the puffy clouds. The weather isn't so cold anymore. It's warmer than it's been in a while. Rick wants to reach out and pat Daryl's shoulder in a goodbye type of way, but something inside tells him not to. It's too soon. And Daryl doesn't seem like the type of person who likes to be touched, especially not by someone he doesn't truly know.

They finally bring themselves to say goodbye, now that they've got plans to meet up. Rick's happier than he's been in weeks. Daryl doesn't know how to feel. They want to know more about each other-it's mutual. That terrifies Daryl. He's never been too fond of or good at letting people in. Not after everything he's been through with trusting the wrong people at the wrong times. But it's different this time. There's potential in this dynamic. He just knows there is.

And as the sun shines partially up above and Daryl watches Rick drives off to wherever it is he's driving to, the word _promise_ bounces inside his skull. For the first time in a while, he's optimistic. There's different ways this could go, and one of those ways is very, very good. In his thoughts, Daryl knows this. He knows it so much it's painful.


End file.
